


Starting Over

by AWriterOfMany



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 15:50:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1904817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AWriterOfMany/pseuds/AWriterOfMany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of Jim's betrayal Molly's decided she's sick of putting up with the way everyone treats her. What will Mycroft think when he sees the "new" Molly? Rated M for language and the likelihood of smut in later chapters. This story is set at the end of season one and becomes AU from there though I will try to keep close to actual events when I can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Explosions and Explanations

Normally it was the silence Molly Hooper loved best about her job. It both soothed and calmed her to be in the morgue with those who had passed. They never demanded anything from her or made her feel like she was less than what she was. No they stayed peaceful and quiet and left her with her thoughts. Unfortunately ever since the night the pool blew up the silence had been driving Molly nuts and her thoughts had been anything but calm. It seemed as if lately every spare part of her brain had been screaming at her about what a fool she was to fall for Jim's lies. Jim from IT, sweet little Jim, who was really James Moriarty mad bomber and consulting criminal extraordinaire. How had she managed to be so pathetic, and desperate to get over her silly little crush on Sherlock Holmes that she had fallen for the first thing that had come along and shown an interest in her? How had she not seen some clue, some hint, to warn her what he was really like? Granted Sherlock himself had been fooled by him but he had only spent five minutes with Jim she had spent hours. Dear god she had slept with the man! She should have seen something before he had shown up in her flat and revealed the truth that night. That horrible awful night that would forever be etched on her memory.

That night she had been messaging Dr. Watson's girlfriend Sarah back and forth because John and Sherlock were no where to be found. At the time Molly had thought it was merely a coincidence that she hadn't been able to get a hold of Jim either. In those moments she never would have imagined that sweet, shy, and yes, though she was loathe to admit it, quite probably gay Jim would show up on her doorstep in a singed Westwood suit giggling maniacally. She had been shocked to she him like that and had quickly dragged him in the flat. Molly had been making him a cup of his favorite tea when he had finally started talking. She had listened in horror as Jim explained everything that had been happening recently and his part in all of it. Worse yet was when he had oh so calmly told her that he couldn't have done it without her. He had told he how easy it had been to use her to get closer to Sherlock and stay informed of his progress. Tears of pain and horror had coursed freely down her cheeks as he had thanked her for being such an simple target really and that she shouldn't feel to upset with him because really how had his behavior been any different from how Sherlock treated her. He pointed out that they both manipulated her emotions to get what they wanted from her. Heck he had even told her that he could make an argument about having treated her better than Sherlock had because at least Jim had given the illusion of a relationship and really wasn't that all Molly had wanted. Then he had finished his tea while she had sat in stunned silence try to process everything he had said. Molly had barely even registered when he had gotten up, kissed her cheek, and told her what a pleasure it had been to work with her.

She wasn't even sure how long she had sat there after he had gone before his talk about an explosion finally processed in her brain and she had been up and out the door in seconds. Molly had made it to St. Bart's in record time and had been relieved to discover that aside from some broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, one concussion and numerous scrapes and bruises between the two of them both Sherlock and John were both alive and relatively well. After making sure they would be okay she had turned herself over to Lestrade for questioning. Molly had spent the rest of that night and a good portion of the next morning answering questions and apologizing profusely for all that had happened, while a team of investigators had torn her flat apart top to bottom in the hopes of finding some clues about Jim and where he might have gone. When she had finally been released the sight of her normally tidy flat ripped to shreds had been enough to send her running for the welcome distraction of work. She had been throwing herself into her work ever since.


	2. Back to Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly's really not doing so hot.

   A month and a half had passed since the  **Night**  and Molly had barely eaten or slept. She hadn't even managed to sort out her flat. Honestly she was surprised she had been managing to take care of Toby. Work and her cat had been all she had had before and it seemed to be all she paid attention to now. She accepted any and all hours she could get from work and was rarely seen anywhere else. Both Lestrade and Dr. Watson had been by to check on her and express their concern for her well being but she was quick to brush them off and assure them she was fine. Thankfully however Sherlock had yet to have been in. Molly was terrified of how she was going to handle seeing him again. She had no idea what she was going to say to him or how she would act. She felt as if she was stretched wire thin and that Sherlock would be the razor that would cut through the last of her. She knew that she would never be completely over him but after Jim she would never be able to look at him the same. A lot of her old feelings for him had been cut from her by the realization that Jim had been right about how they both used her and she wasn't quite sure how to heal the raw gaping wound those feelings had left behind. A part of her was hoping that Sherlock Holmes never walked back into her lab or her life but those hopes were dashed when she came in one afternoon to find Dr. Watson waiting outside the lab doors with an apologetic look on his face.

   "I'm sorry Molly, we tried to stay away as long as possible. Unfortunately we've had no luck finding Moriarty and he's been complaining about how bored he is. Now he want's an experiment to help pass the time." John rambled out as soon as he saw Molly standing in the corridor. He winched slightly at the sight of her. John could never claim to be close to the mousy pathologist but he still knew she was a good woman he hated to see her like this. It was like she was fading away slowly but surely. Molly had never been the strongest creature before but now it seemed as if her run in with Moriarty had completely broken her.

   Molly looked up at John and part of her flinched at the wealth of pity she saw in his eye's. It stung her to see it but sadly it was a look she was beginning to get used to. After all it seemed as if pitying looks were the only kind she got now a days. Molly knew the picture she presented to the world. Lack of sleep and food had taken a hard toll on her already slim frame. She had dropped at least a stone if not more and was in danger of looking almost skeletal. Her complexion was even paler than usual and there were huge bags under her eyes. If she was completely honest with herself Molly was somewhat afraid of falling asleep in the morgue and being mistaken for one of the corpses. She knew she looked horrible but Molly just couldn't seem to shake herself out of her depression.

   Setting aside thoughts of how she looked Molly offered John a small and a shake of her head. "No John it's fine really" Molly let out a small sigh of defeat before rallying her courage. "It was inevitable that you were going to come in sooner or later. Best to get it over with now right?" John offered her a smile of his own full of relief. "Right Molly. After all the sooner things go back to normal the better it will be for everyone." John then straightened up and pushed through the lab doors as Molly paused.  _Back to normal!_  Molly thought incredulously.  _Better for everyone! Since when had back to normal with Sherlock Holmes ever been better for her?_ She thought with a flare of anger. She tried to quell her growing rage knowing that John hadn't meant to hurt her with his careless words but it was difficult. Molly found herself unable to stop the thought that maybe she didn't want everything to go back to normal. Maybe, just maybe she wanted a new normal dammit! Sighing tiredly at the pointless train her thoughts were taking Molly squared her shoulders and tried to prepare herself for her first sight of Sherlock Holmes since that night.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first few chapter's are short, I know. But they do get longer.


	3. When I See Your Face Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Sherlock's an ass. (Shocking I know.)

   Pushing through the double doors the first thing Molly saw was Sherlock's back as he bent over a microscope. She stifled a small gasp at the sight of him after so long, silently marveling that how even from behind the man still had the power to take her breath away. Despite everything that she had been through and her new realizations about him Molly couldn't deny that he was a ridiculously handsome man. Tall and dark with finely drawn features that she had always fancied belonged more on an elven prince than a detective Sherlock Holmes had become Molly's idea of the perfect man even before he had dazzled her with his incredible intellect.

   The saddest thing about it was that even if Sherlock wasn't handsome she still would have fallen for him. His incredible brain was what drew her to him the most. Molly had always been ridiculously attracted to smart men from the time she was old enough to realize they didn't have cooties. All her boyfriends had been math or science nerds and the smarter they were the more they turned her on. Watching Sherlock work and hearing him explain his deductive skills was an incredible turn on for Molly and she was a bit worried that she would never find another person as smart as he was that she could be happy with.

   Suddenly feeling overwhelmed Molly started to turn and leave hoping he hadn't noticed her but it was to late. "Ah Molly your finally here. I need a pair of eyes, female, preferably between the ages of eighteen to twenty-five. I had already had a pair but John tossed them in the rubbish mid-experiment" Sherlock spoke without ever looking up from the microscope. John however gave a sharp glare at Sherlock before looking at Molly with exasperation. "They were in the salt tin, the salt tin of all places!" He fixed his glare back on his flatmate. "You know the very same salt I cook with! Just the thought of what I put that salt on without knowing they were in there makes me nauseous." Sherlock looked at John and rolled his eyes before finally glancing towards Molly who still hovered half turned with her hand on the door. "Honestly John I can not understand why your still so upset about this. You are obviously none the worse for wear after eating it however my experiment was completely destroyed with no salvageable data. Now Molly please stop dawdling and get me those eyes."

   Molly, who out of shear habit had already begun running the list of morgue occupants through her head in an attempt to determine whether or not she had a suitable candidate, stopped as his words hit her like a bucket of ice water. Still simmering from her earlier anger she slowly turned and leveled Sherlock with a hard glare. Molly's voice was surprisingly calm and steady."Sherlock as you well know I have no problem providing you with the use of this lab or the things you need for your experiments. However if you continue to treat me like a wayward child or worse, some kind of pet your teaching to fetch, I will call security to remove you from the building and you will never get another thing from me understood?"

   As Molly continued to stare at him in a manner so unlike her usual demeanor Sherlock realized a change of tactics were in order. Deliberately softening his gaze Sherlock crossed to her and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Molly" he began in suddenly sweetened tones. "How could you think so little of me? You are infinitely more useful than a child or even a pet. Without you assistance I would have a much harder time accessing the things I need here at St. Bart's. My cases would be somewhat more difficult to solve and innocent people could potentially get hurt."

   Molly felt herself start to soften. Lulled by Sherlock's honeyed words and his proximity to her body she felt her knees start to weaken and her resolve begin to crumble. Then Moriarty's voice rang through her head piercing the fog in her brain Sherlock had created. All she could hear was Moriarty telling her how pathetic she was. How easy it was for the two geniuses to manipulate her. Molly suddenly felt sick and she pulled away from Sherlock with a hurt and angry expression. "No" she breathed out shakily. "You cannot keep doing this to me. I cannot keep letting you do this me. I may seem like a pathetic little nothing of a mouse to you Sherlock but dammit I'm a human being and I deserve better than the way you treat me, the way you have always treated me." Heaving a deep breath Molly felt herself getting angrier by the moment. "My god, Sherlock I have known you for years and I have defended you from all the horrible things people have said. I mean bloody hell I don't even allow Anderson or Donavan in this damn lab anymore because they can't keep a civil tongue in regards to you. I have always thought you were a better man than you act but your not really are you? Honestly even I'm beginning to wonder if your human." Molly ended her tirade in near tears of pain and anger. It seemed as all the turmoil and anguish she had been hiding from since her encounter with Moriarty had bubbled to the surface and she just couldn't stop the hateful things that were pouring from her mouth. "Get out Sherlock. Now! Just get the bloody hell out and don't bother coming back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's that. I know Molly's a bit ooc but I figure she's in a very dark place right now. We all know the kind of havoc are dear Moriarty can wreck on a person's psyche plus the fact that she's barely eating or sleeping enough to stay healthy. She's a woman on the edge and some times you have to fall before you can pick yourself back up again.


	4. Mind Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Sherlock realizes he's been an ass.

   The look in Molly's eyes as she glared at Sherlock was gut-wrenching. She had always been an easy woman to read and now everything he could see about her spoke of how close she was to the edge of breaking. Part of Sherlock looked at her and thought that this was what caring and sentiment got you in the end and how thankful he was he never put much stock in those sort of emotions. But another part, a part that had been nurtured and forced to grow by his friendship with John Watson could not help but ache at the sight of her. As much as it pained him to admit it he knew he was responsible for a large part of what she had been through. He wouldn't apologize for the way he acted around Molly. As she had said they had known each other for years and he had never behaved any differently around her. It would be ridiculous to start now. However the entire Moriarty debacle was his burden of guilt to bear. The only reason Molly had even crossed paths with Moriarty was because of him. Because of Moriarty's sick obsession with him Molly had been lured into the game and left to suffer as a result.

   Sherlock knew he had to do something to snap Molly out of her depression. If she carried on the way she was it was quite likely the girl would just drop dead one day soon mid shift. He couldn't let such a thing happen. After all not only would he lose his valuable morgue access there was also a strong likely hood that John would never let him hear the end of it. These were obviously the only reasons he considered trying to help Molly he thought to himself quickly silencing the small voice that told him he just might miss his mousy pathologist if he were to lose her. As much as the thought disturbed him he had to admit however reluctantly that in some small manner he did indeed consider Molly a friend. No where close to the kind of friendship he shared with John Watson obviously but enough. Her unwavering loyalty to him had always been a balm to his soul however much wanted to deny it. In the years he had known her Molly had never turned away from him and she had indisputably seen him at his worst.

   He didn't often like to think about his days as an addict. They were not a time he was particularly proud of in his life. He was well aware of the suffering he had brought to the people who cared about him but he had been far to absorbed in bringing some kind of clarity and calm to his always chaotic and cluttered thoughts. There were times however when he lost control over the drugs and sunk to deep into the high. Those times when he had no place to go and no one who would help him he had always known that he could show up on Molly's door with a smile and a compliment and be able to use her couch for a night. She would always stutter and blush and spend the rest of night fixing him tea or coffee and shoving food down his throat. Molly was always there when he needed her to guide him through the worst of his highs and then Sherlock would slip out before she awoke the next day. They never spoke of those times and always acted like they never happened but she had never turned him away.

   Molly had always trusted him and believed in him and the thought that Moriarty had finally been the one to force her to lose faith with him filled Sherlock with a deadly rage. Moriarty had said that he would burn his heart out and Sherlock had played as if he didn't have one but they both had known it was a lie. John, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Molly, even Mycroft all meant more to him than he would have ever cared to admit. The idea that Moriarty had wrecked this much pain and anguish on Molly while twisting her into thinking that Sherlock would ever do the same made him all the more determined that this game had to end as quickly as possible. The more pressing problem however was how to get Molly to snap out of whatever this was and get back to being herself.

   Sherlock looked at Molly and a dozen ideas flashed through his brain at lightning speed. He quickly examined and discarded each as some flaw was found until finally he paused on one. Could it work? Yes he thought to himself but it would have to be delicately done. Smiling suddenly Sherlock tipped his head to Molly and walked out the door John following behind him calling for him to wait up. He waited at the lift for John and was silent as they rode up. John looked like he wanted to say something and he didn't heave long to wait before John got started.

   "Well that could have gone better. Honestly I don't know what we were thinking. I blame myself as much as you. How could we possibly think everything could just go back to normal after all that Moriarty has done and is likely to keep doing? It was stupid of us to think that Molly could just brush of everything that's happened and forget about it. We both know how fragile she is." John ended with a defeated sigh. "Bloody hell Sherlock how are we going to fix this? She needs help."

   Sherlock gave John a sharp look. "First off John never think that Molly's weak. Yes she's in a precarious state at the moment and needs help but that woman has a quiet strength to her that most people could only wish for. Believe me I've seen it though I would never tell her that there would be no point. Secondly I already have a plan on how to help her." He finished this with that same smile that he had given Molly before he'd left. That smile that said he was smarter than everyone in the room and would take care of everything. The same smile that made a part of John Watson want to run for cover. "Oh lord Sherlock what are you planning?" John groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there we go hopefully I did a good job with Sherlock. I was trying really hard not to make him seem to mushy but I think that whether he admits it to himself or not he kind of is with people he cares about. Well at least in his head where he doesn't have to admit it to anyone.


	5. Molly Comes Home With a Vengeance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly makes a few changes.

   Molly watched Sherlock walk out the door and immediately let out a breath she hadn't even known she was holding.  _Oh god I can't believe I just talked to him like that._  Molly thought as she collapsed into the nearest chair and put her head in her hands. She had never been so cruel to anyone in her entire life and the part of her that always tried to keep people happy wanted to run after him and apologize. However Molly knew she wouldn't because right now she had meant every word. Her anger at the way she was always treated was still running strong.

   She had spent her whole bloody life wanting to make everyone else happy. She wore shabby second-hand clothes because it made her sister happy to be the pretty one in the family. She constantly perused relationship after relationship because she knew it would make her mother happy to see her oldest daughter married and having kids. There were the self defense courses and shooting lessons because her brother in the Royal Marines was happier knowing she could handle herself. Heck the main reason she had even gone to medical school was to make her father happy to have another doctor in the family.

   The only real thing she had ever done to make herself happy was when she had switched her field of study to become a pathologist rather than the neurosurgeon her father had hoped she'd become. Molly was much happier with that choice than she ever thought she could have been even if she did have to deal with her father saying she had wasted her intelligence and steady hands on people who were to dead to appreciate it. He was often heard lamenting how he never would have paid for her Oxford education if he had known she was going to waste it. Molly hated hearing her father talk like this so she had pushed herself harder to succeed and make him happy with her again. She had not only graduated at the top of her class but also a year early. She had then landed her job at St. Bart's and had worked hard to make it to her current position as head pathologist. Her father may still regret the fact she wasn't a neurosurgeon like himself but he could say with pride that his little girl was the best in her field.

   Yes, Molly had spent almost the entirety of her life making everybody else happy and as she thought back to what it had gotten her over the years she decided she was sick of it. There was a determined look in her eyes as she rose from her chair and gathered her things together. After a quick call for a replacement for the day and permission to take that leave the hospital had been trying to force on her since the  **Night** , Molly was out the door and headed back to her flat. She was finally going to clean up her life and start making herself happy and the perfect place to start was getting her home back in order.

 _Bloody hell I forgot what a disaster my flat was._  Molly groaned to herself as she came in.  _It looks as if a rather large tornado has touched down in every room in the place. All I need is Toto and some ruby slippers and I could be wandering through Oz by now._  Molly heaved a huge sigh and tried to decide where to start first.  _The kitchen because god only knows what's growing in the fridge at the moment._  She kicked of her shoes, plugged her iPod into it's dock, rolled up her sleeves and got to work.

   It was almost nightfall before Molly finally stopped cleaning. She flopped into a kitchen chair and looked around her flat with pride. All the garbage had been cleared out but there was still work to be done. Her entire living room set would have to be replaced because apparently some overzealous yards-man had decided to shred it in case anything was hidden inside.  _As if I wouldn't have noticed Jim slipping something into my sofa cushions. I'm naive not blind._  Molly snorted in disgust. Not that she really minded in the long run. Everything she owned was worn out second-hand junk and she had been looking for an excuse to replace it.

 _Looks like I'll be doing a fair bit of shopping the next few days._  She wasn't worried about the cost however. Not only did she make a good salary at St. Bart's Molly also had the trust fund her father set up for each of his children that she hardly ever touched. Her lifestyle the way it had been didn't require a lot of capitol so most of her money stayed in the bank.  _If getting my life back in order isn't a good reason to splurge I don't know what is._  Molly giggled a bit at the thought before the rumble of her stomach reminded her how little she had been eating lately.

   Knowing how empty her fridge was at the moment she grabbed a takeaway menu and placed an order that could quite likely feed a rugby team and still leave leftovers. Molly couldn't help but laugh when the delivery boy showed up and goggled at the fact that it was just her accepting the order. After generously tipping the poor man she proceeded to put a sizable dent in the food. Feeling considerably better than she had in the last month Molly packed her leftovers away and thought about her next move.  _Clothes, I definitely need to finally upgrade my wardrobe. If Megan wants to bitch at me because I'm not running around looking like her dowdy spinster of a sister anymore she can go right ahead! I'm tired of dressing down to please her and I'm not doing it anymore._

   Molly marched into her closet and started looking at everything she owned with a critical eye.  _Oh good heavens when did I start wearing so much bloody pink it's a horrid color on me._  Several hours and numerous garbage bags later Molly's closet was bare except for her pajamas and an outfit to wear shopping the next day.  _Can't exactly wander around London naked as the day I was born_  she giggled to herself. Even her undergarments had failed to make the cut and were now stuffed in one the garbage bags she was going to have donated to the local homeless shelter. Suddenly stifling a yawn Molly glanced at her clock and was surprised to see it was after midnight. Deciding she'd done enough for today Molly changed into her most comfortable pajamas and after securing the flat fell into a deep dreamless sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. Even though Molly's making some changes I still plan on keeping her the same sweet person we love. I want her to evolve into a more self-confident person not a completely different one. Her outer changes are just going to start reflecting who I feel she really is when she allows herself to be herself. Did that make any sense?


	6. Fixing Broken Toys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Mycroft is...Mycroft, John stares too much and Sherlock is sneaky.

   John wasn't exactly sure when Sherlock had gotten the metal tipped lawn darts but he was painfully aware of when he had started throwing them at the ceiling. Already imagining the dressing down they were going to receive from Mrs. Hudson John consoled himself with the fact that at least Sherlock was staying away from his gun. If they were lucky the worst thing she'd do was charge them for the repairs and confiscate the skull for the next month. Sighing heavily as he went to make some more tea John hoped for nearly the dozenth time that Lestrade called them for a case soon.

   He had managed to become rather adept at drowning out the rhythmic thud and thumping that came from the darts hitting the ceiling before falling back onto the floor that he didn't notice that it had stopped until Sherlock spoke from behind him making him jump. "John how long has it been since Molly threw us out?" Sherlock said as he smirked a bit at John's startled expression. "Um.. well I'd say it's been a good two weeks now. Why do you ask? Are we going to go apologize and hope she lets you have access again?" John replied hoping he was right. It didn't sit well with him the way they had left things with Molly. "Don't be ridiculous John. Honestly sometimes I wonder if you know me at all. When have I ever apologized for being myself? Don't answer that it was rhetorical. Now two weeks you say? Yes, perfect get me my phone would you it is time to bring in some outside assistance." John rolled his eyes at the request for his phone and just reached past him and grabbed it off the kitchen table. Handing it to him John couldn't help but wonder who the outside assistance was going to be. He had just opened his mouth to ask when Sherlock spoke again. "You will just have to wait and see John." He called as he flopped back onto the couch, fingers flying over the keys as he sent his text.

   It had now been several hours since Sherlock's text and he was curiously closed mouthed about who he contacted. The suspense was just getting to be to much for John when he heard Mrs. Hudson answer a knock at the door. There was sound of footsteps coming up the stairs and then Mrs. Hudson was through the door and calling out to them. "Sherlock dear your brother's here for a visit. Now you all just sit down for a nice chat and I'll make some tea and put some biscuits out. Just this once though now. I'm your landlady not a housekeeper." John shared an affectionate smile with Sherlock at the antics of their landlady. She may have her quirks but John knew they wouldn't have her any other way.

   The three men settled into the living room after Mrs. Hudson had bustled off, with Sherlock and Mycroft facing off in the armchairs while John settled into the sofa. The brothers stared hard at each other both waiting for the other to crack first. John sipped his tea and watched the power play with some amusement. Just when it looked as if the staring contest was never going to end and that he'd have to intervene one of the lawn darts still stuck in ceiling decided to dislodge itself. The resulting crash as it hit the coffee table was enough to cause the brothers to break eye contact.

   Finally with a smirking glance at the hole riddled ceiling Mycroft was the one to break the silence. "Well Sherlock, as pleasing as these little visits are and as much as I enjoy hearing from you, suppose you explain exactly why you summoned here." Sherlock snorted and rolled his eyes. "As if you don't already know." If possible Mycroft's smug smile got even bigger. "Ah yes, your little tiff with Miss Hooper. Still denying you morgue access I presume? Dear me, who knew the young lady could hold a grudge so long. She certainly was never able to in years past. It would of course be pointless to ask whether you have tried just apologizing to her." John perked up a bit at this last bit. "See that's exactly what I said he should do but he refuses." John and Mycroft shared a telling glance while Sherlock huffed. "That because I have never in the years we have known each other had to beg forgiveness from Molly for being who I am and I will not let our recent encounters with Moriarty change the very foundation my relationship with her is built on. Honestly the only thing I want from you Mycroft is to come with John and I and help Molly realize how important my morgue access is."

   Sherlock slouched back into his chair looking very much the same as he had as a child when one of his favorite toys had broken and he wanted Mycroft to fix it. Mycroft gazed at him with sudden understanding.  _Moriarty._  Mycroft fought to keep the anger that name provoked from showing on his face.  _That's why he refuses to just apologize. If he does then he as good as admits that Moriarty is capable of affecting his relations with people. And if he admits that he has to admit the fact that Moriarty just might be capable of burning the heart from him which he refuse to allow as a possibility. Not that I would ever allow it myself. No sense "being the British government" if I cannot even keep my meddlesome baby brother from harm._  Mycroft let out a deep sigh as if admitting defeat, planning his next move carefully. "Fine Sherlock. Once more I will play big brother and fix your mess. When were you planning on speaking with Miss Hooper next?"

   Sherlock didn't even bother to hide his satisfied smirk.  _Exactly as planned._  He had originally considered sending Mycroft after Molly on his own but he was less than confident in their ability to engage each other without a push. Mycroft would most likely frighten Molly to the point she would not be able to string two sentences together and then leave annoyed by her incomprehensibility. _Yes, as distracting as my presence will no doubt be for Molly being present for the initial meeting will allow better odds for the chance there will be other meetings._  Thinking quickly Sherlock suddenly jumped from the chair. "We are all here now and there is no time like the present is there? Well? Come on both of you quit dawdling and get in the car." He called as he pulled on his coat and swept down the stairs. John and Mycroft shared another look before getting up and reluctantly joining him.

   Molly was wrist deep in fifty-three year old male dead dead from a heart attack when she heard Sherlock sweep into her lab with two other people. Most _likely John and Lestrade._  She didn't bother turning around. She knew Sherlock would let her know what he wanted soon enough and she was a bit busy at the moment thank you very much. Molly was so sure she knew how everything was going to play out that she shocked to hear John's question. "Um.. excuse me miss could you tell us where Molly Hooper is?" She smiled slowly.  _Oh this was going to be interesting._  Molly pulled her hands out of the corpse and turned around to face them.  _Ah! Not Lestrade then. Mycroft. Wow Sherlock must really want his morgue access back rather badly if he's gone crying to big brother._ "I'm sorry John, I'm not sure I heard you right. Were you looking for me?"

   Later John would be the only one to admit he gawked but in all honesty they all did. When they had walked in they expected to find Molly had at work. However none of them immediately recognized the woman bent over the body laid out on the autopsy table.

   The woman's rich reddish brown hair was highlighted with tones of gold and swept into a neat and artful twist. She wore the typical white lab coat found on every morgue attendant but it was paired with a flattering pearl gray pencil skirt and teal kitten pumps that drew attention to her long delicate legs. She was a bit on the unhealthy side of thin but still possessed some soft curves.

   John managed to drag his eyes off said woman's legs long enough to ask where Molly was. It was all he could do to keep his jaw from hitting the floor however when the woman turned and revealed herself to be Molly.

   Mycroft immediately started deducing the woman as a possible threat when he realized he had never seen her before. He had all the personnel files of every person who worked in the morgue and the labs he knew no one had been hired recently. If his gaze happened to linger a little to long on her delicate curves well it was all for the purpose of gathering information. Wasn't it?  _Remarkably thin though she's obviously gained a bit back recently. Either she was very ill or under heavy stress for some time and is now starting to mend. Clothes, though well made and equally well fitting, are a bit loose suggesting she's smart enough to know she's still a tad to thin and plans on gaining more to get back to a healthy level. Again suggesting the weight lose was from outside forces and not self inflicted. Her hair's been highlighted but not heavily suggesting that she was looking to enhance her looks to a small degree rather than attempt to change them completely. Excellent choice I would have to say. Everything looks quite lovely from where I am in heavens name did that come from? Focus! Recent as well judging by the lack of root growth. Obviously attempting to boost her confidence after whatever her recent ordeal was but not willing to go for a radical change. Conclusion: she was comfortable and confident with the person she was before her incident but never showed it and now since then she wants to show the world the person she has always been. The only real question is who is she?_  Then She turned around and Mycroft was genuinely shocked for the first time in a very long while. This was not the Molly Hooper he remembered meeting all those years ago.

   Sherlock ignored the woman when he realized Molly wasn't here and had started to turn back around when he heard her reply to John's question. Whirling around Sherlock took in the details of Molly's current look and reached the same conclusions as his brother. Though a glance in Mycroft's direction had him guessing that he perhaps wasn't as admiring of Molly's current incarnation as his older brother was. Sherlock didn't bother to stop the calculating grin that spread across his face.  _Fantastic! With this new development my plan will be far more easier to implement._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK there it was. Hopefully everyone stayed in character like I told them to. I was worried about writing Mycroft even more then I was Sherlock but I have to say I'm rather pleased with how it all turned out. I wanted Mycroft's thoughts on Molly to not only be accurate but also show how I want her character to go from here. I don't want to make her someone completely different I just want to enhance what we all know is already there. Also I'm making it that they have met before. Shortly after Molly first met Sherlock. Cause let's face it John couldn't possibly be the only one of Sherlock's acquaintances that Mycroft's kidnapped.


	7. Not So Broken After All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Mycroft asks Molly out for dinner. (Not the Irene Adler kind.)

   John was the first to break the silence. "Molly! Wow … you look ... lovely! I mean – well...um not that you weren't lovely before but…you know." He stuttered out awkwardly, still shocked by her new appearance. Molly giggled softly. "Thank you, John. After everything that's happened I decided to make some changes. After all, if finding out your boyfriend's a psychopathic consulting criminal who's only after you to get to a friend of yours isn't a good reason for a new wardrobe, I don't know what is." She joked with a lingering trace of bitterness. "Well you look great really." John said again with a fair bit more awkwardness. He looked about ready to say something else but Sherlock cut him off. "John please stop you're making my head throb. Now that we are all well aware of how much John appreciates Molly's new look could we please get to the reason we are here."

   Molly's face fell a little at Sherlock's words and Mycroft felt a sudden sting of annoyance. He knew his brother could observe social niceties when it suited him and felt that now would have been a good time. He was after all here to try and convince Dr. Hooper to give him his access back. However part of him couldn't help the satisfaction he felt knowing that John wouldn't be allowed to flirt with her anymore while they were there. Shaking off the feeling Mycroft stepped forward. "I apologize, Dr. Hooper, for my brother's lack of civilized behavior. I assure you, he was taught better but the lessons never seemed to stick. However, he does have a point. As pleasant as it would be to stand here talking about how lovely you look, we do have other business to attend to."

   Molly stared in surprise. Did Mycroft Holmes just say she was lovely? She had expected something like that from John. After all, he was a really nice man but he couldn't look at anything in a skirt without flirting with it. Sherlock's reaction, while disappointing, was pretty much expected.

   However, she never would have expected a compliment about her person to slip past Mycroft's lips. Molly knew that he was capable of being charming when he put his mind to it. You didn't make it as far in the government, as Sherlock swore he was, without being charming when it suited you. She had just never seen it. Molly remembered the first time she had meet him. He had terrified her.

   Molly Hooper had just been starting her internship at St. Bart's morgue when she had meet Sherlock Holmes. He was obviously an addict of some kind. Even as naive as she was, Molly could recognize the signs. No one ever wanted to deal with him but they also didn't seem to have the power to kick him out. The order to allow him free reign of the mortuary had come from very high up and no one dared defy it. Molly had been instantly smitten with the drug addicted young man even though she knew better. The flashes of startling intelligence that often shown through the drug fueled fog he spent his time in were enough to keep her hooked in spite of herself. As soon as her colleagues realized she wasn't opposed to dealing with him, Sherlock quickly became her problem to deal with, not that she minded. She and Sherlock rarely spoke, aside from those occasions when he requested something of her, and Molly rushed to comply, but it was an arrangement that worked for them.

   Molly would never have said that they were close, so it was a surprise the first time he showed up on her doorstep drugged out of his mind. She had never seen him that bad. Sherlock always seemed to have more control over the drugs than they had on him and it was a shock seeing him like that. Not being the type to turn him out Molly had brought him inside and spent the next few hours plying his painfully thin frame with food and tea. Eventually he would fall asleep on the couch and was gone when she awoke the next day. The next time Molly saw him neither spoke about that night and she tried to forget about it till it happened again. It was after the third time it happened that Molly Hooper had met Mycroft Holmes for the first time.

   Molly had been camped out in the back of her favorite cafe studying. She had been so focused on her books she hadn't noticed that the other customers started leaving slowly but surely and no new ones came in. It was several minutes before Molly finally registered how quiet the cafe had gotten. Glancing up she had been alarmed to discover that the cafe was empty. Even the employees were nowhere to be seen. Molly was just starting to panic and gather her stuff up when a young woman about her age came through the back. "Stay seated Miss Hooper. He'll be with you shortly," was all the woman said before turning the closed sign and locking the cafe door. The woman then promptly ignored Molly and went back to focusing solely on her mobile.

   Molly shifted nervously in her seat and worried about what all this was about when she heard another set of footsteps accompanied by a light tapping noise. A man on the young side of middle age emerged from the back room. He wore a well tailored shirt and carried an umbrella and Molly felt woefully under dressed in her jeans and pink jumper. The man sat at the table across from her and fixed her with a stare that seemed to strip her to her very soul. Before this man, the only person who had ever made her feel so exposed was Sherlock and she wondered if this was all connected to him. "Good day, Miss Hooper. It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance." The man spoke in the cultured tones that spoke of private school breeding. "Um ... thank you … I think." Molly nervously sputtered out, "Why did you want to meet me...if I may ask?" The man gave her a look as if it should have been obvious. "You've recently been spending more company in the presence of a mutual acquaintance of ours, and I felt it was time to learn more about you as a result." Molly swallowed heavily.

   "So this is about Sherlock." The man gave her a smile that was neither warm nor reassuring. "Very good, Miss Hooper. Yes, I have been informed that he has been seen entering your residence several times over the last few months and I would like the nature of your relationship clarified. Sherlock is in a precarious place in his life at the moment and I wish to make sure he's not being taken advantage of." This last was said with a hard stare at Molly causing her to gulp and shift anxiously. "Oh ... oh no it's nothing like that, sir. Sherlock just seems to show up unexpectedly sometimes. All I...all I do is make sure he eats something and watch over him until he falls asleep. He's always gone by the time I wake up and he never talks about it afterward." Molly laughed a light nervous laugh. "The last thing you have to worry about is me taking advantage of your brother." The last was said with a trace of bitter longing.

   The man in front of her looked surprised for a split second before slipping his mask back into place. "I never said he was my brother Miss Hooper. What made you reach that conclusion?" Molly smiled shyly. "Well you both have the same way of talking and the same stare, really. You're the only two people I've ever met who look at someone quite the same way. Plus, you're way too young to be his father." The man looked at her with something akin to appreciation. "Very good, Miss Hooper. Not many people have ever figured out he is my brother. My name is Mycroft Holmes and I do apologize for the inconvenient meeting, but I worry about my brother constantly and you can understand why I would rather he not fall prey to a fortune hunter in the state he happens to be in now." Molly bristled at the accusation in his words and sat a little straighter. "I hardly need to be a fortune hunter Mr. Holmes. My family is not without its resources and I resent the implication. Like you said, Sherlock's in a bad place at this time and I consider him a friend. If there's something I can do to help him when he needs it, I'll do it." Mycroft smiled tightly at her words.

        "I appreciate your generosity, Miss Hooper, but I fear it is misplaced. My brother doesn't have friends and it seems unlikely that will change anytime in the future. You're best casting your affections at an easier target." Molly was flushed with anger now.

   "I won't deny I have feelings for him Mr. Holmes. It would be a pointless waste to try. However that is a small part of the reason I help him and as long as he continues to show up at my door I will continue to help him. I thank you for your concern about my well being but it is entirely unnecessary." Mycroft gave a tight nod and rose for his seat. "Well, I have done my best to warn you about my brother's behavior. What happen from now on is on your own head, Miss Hooper. Have a good day." With that he turned and swept from the room. The woman on her mobile unlocked the door and flipped the sign back to open before leaving as well, all without ever looking up. Molly sat there in stunned silence while customers filed back in, wondering what had just happened and who exactly the Holmes brothers were to wield such power.

   Molly flashed back to the present and gazed at Mycroft with an appraising eye. That meeting had been years ago and the only time she had seen him since was the incident involving the woman Sherlock had identified by her naked body. She compared the man she saw now to the one she had first met; Mycroft Holmes had grown into the power he wielded. Where before it had seemed slightly out of place on him, it was now worn comfortably. He now looked like a man who could run an empire and truth be told quite likely did. Mycroft would never be considered as attractive as Sherlock undeniably was, but there was a magnetism there that both brothers shared, and he certainly was handsome in his own right. There was always something about the Holmes's that told a woman that if she was lucky enough to get their undivided attention on a sexual level, the result would be smoldering, and intense. Molly felt a shiver run down her spine at the sudden thought of being on the receiving end of Mycroft's desire. Shaking the surprising thought from her brain, Molly tried to focus on the men in front of her. Besides, she was in love with Sherlock ... wasn't she?

         "Sorry about that. I zoned out for a moment. You said you had business to discuss?"

   Mycroft had of course noticed Molly shiver as she looked him over but was quick to repress the surge of satisfaction it gave him. After all, the girl – no  _woman_ \- since last he had seen her, Molly Hooper had definitely grown into a woman. A woman who, to the best of his considerable knowledge, had fancied herself in love with his brother for years now. He was not without his own ego but he was, however, highly doubtful that he could lure a woman away from his handsome brother. Despite his social awkwardness and abrasive personality, Sherlock's good looks were enough to get woman to overlook a large number of his flaws in their pursuit of him. Molly Hooper seemed to be one of those woman and Mycroft saw little reason to throw himself against a brick wall no matter how much he admired her new look.

   Straightening himself up, he met Molly's questioning gaze. "Yes Dr. Hooper we've come to discuss the terms required to allow Sherlock his lab access back." The man in question threw his hands up at this. "Terms … Terms! Unbelievable. You're supposed to be here to tell her she needs to let me back in, not negotiate! This isn't one of your political functions, Mycroft. Just do what I brought you here for." With this Sherlock threw himself in the nearest seat and proceeded to sulk. Mycroft shot a hard glare at him before turning back to Molly. "Perhaps if we stepped into the other room Dr. Hooper, the two of us could discuss this in a more mature manner." He gestured towards the door and she nodded before heading out of the room. No one noticed the self satisfied smirk Sherlock was quick to hide.

   Molly led the way into the lab and stripped off the gloves she realized she still had on. She quickly scrubbed her hands before turning back to Mycroft. "I'm sorry you were dragged into this, Mr. Holmes. In all honesty I meant to allow him back in some time ago, but he hasn't come around and it slipped my mind." Molly smiled at him. "And I'd be lying if I said I haven't been enjoying the peace and quiet just a little bit." She let out a charming bell like laugh and Mycroft found himself unable to keep from smiling back. "Perfectly understandable, Dr. Hooper. I often find myself wishing for peace and quiet from my brother's antics as well. I suppose since we are to be negotiating I should ask you if there is anything I need to request my brother not do any longer." He looked at her questioningly.

   Molly thought about it for a moment before answering honestly. "There's likely not much point in asking Sherlock not to do anything because we both know he'll do whatever he wants regardless. Though, there is one thing I'd like to try and get him to stop doing." Mycroft waited for her to continue as she took a deep breath. "I'd like to ask him not to flirt with me any longer. I've begun to realize that while I will always consider him a friend, my feelings may not be what I always thought they were. I'd like the time to be able to sort through everything that I'm feeling and I'd rather not risk being sucked back in by false emotion."

   Mycroft didn't show it but he couldn't have been more shocked if Molly had stripped naked in front of him. His entire perception of the woman had been built around the idea that she thought herself deeply and irrevocably in love with Sherlock and now here she was leaving room for doubt. Obviously her encounter with Moriarty had shaken Molly Hooper to her core. He had, of course, seen what it had done to her shortly after the incident. Everyone Sherlock had regular contact with was watched closely and she was no exception. When he had first seen the photos of her after all that had happened he had assumed the young doctor wasn't going to recover. Looking at her now, Mycroft realized that there was a core of steel in Molly that wasn't often seen but undeniably present nonetheless. The attraction this new side of her roused in him was powerful enough to have him taking a chance. "Dr. Hooper, I would be pleased to tell my brother to no longer manipulate your affections with his false flirting if you would do me one favor." Molly looked at him curiously, wondering what he could want from her. "I would like you to allow me the honor of escorting you to dinner." Molly looked momentarily shocked at the offer before blushing brightly and smiling. "I'd like that, Mr. Holmes. I do believe I'd like that very much."


	8. Panic Attacks and a Bit of Creepiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Molly has a bit of a freak out and Mycroft is...Mycroft.

   And just like that Molly Hooper had a date with Mycroft Holmes. The result of which made one Sherlock Holmes smug with satisfaction, after all it was all because of him was it not? And one John Watson just a tiny bit jealous, cause if he had known Molly was hiding legs like that...and when did mister caring is not an advantage start wanting to date anyway?! But that was neither here nor there...

   All these facts lead us to our current moment. Sherlock and John were off on a case, he didn't find his brother's love life that interesting thank you very much, Mycroft was busy wrapping up some last minute matter of national importance in order to have his evening free and Molly...oh poor Molly...

   Molly was a wreck. She stood in the middle of her closet, hair still wet from the shower, trying to stave off a full on panic attack. "Oh dear heavens I have a date with Mycroft bloody Holmes!" She'd been standing in here for the last forty-five minutes trying to process this very fact. It was still a work in progress. Currently she'd moved on to a more pressing problem. "What am I going to wear?" Molly looked around her closet. Nothing seemed quite right. It all seemed either too professional, this was a date not a business luncheon. Too flirty, she didn't want him to think she threw herself at any man who asked her out. Or too casual, this was Mycroft Holmes, did the man even own any clothing that wasn't a suit? The only upside she could see to this pressing dilemma was the fact that it distracted her from another problem that had been dogging the back of her mind. "What on earth are we going to talk about?" The only topic the young pathologist could think of that she shared with a man who was essentially the British Government was a certain consulting detective and that was the last thing she wanted to discuss on a date. She was pretty sure that talking about a man she had crushed on for years while on a date with said man's brother would seriously dampen any romantic feels the night may or may not contain. And she was hoping it would contain them.

   Mycroft was...odd, but whip smart and handsome in his own way. Arrogant but lord knew she'd already proven she could put up with that. She giggled at the thought. She was nervous around him but in a different way than she when she was around Sherlock. With Sherlock it was like being around a star, bright and blazing and you had to constantly fight the irresistible urge to touch him cause you knew you'd get burned if your fingers so much as brushed across one of those cut glass cheekbones. With Mycroft it was more like being in the presence of royalty. He seemed so larger than life, so dark and all encompassing she always had to fight the urge to sink into a curtsy when she was near him. It was funny really, she'd realized over the years that she was comfortable crushing on Sherlock. It was safe, required no effort on her part and after a while there had become a certain level of security in the pattern of her small overtures of affection and his subsequent rejection thereof. There was a solid comfort in knowing that things with him would never change, that he would never return her feelings.

   But this, this thing with Mycroft was all new and bold and so far out of her comfort zone that Molly had to forcibly fight the urge to call him and beg off. But she didn't want to fall back into the comfortable familiarity of mousy Molly. Oh she was there, just under the surface, always would be. That Molly was a part of her and it would be foolish to think that she could be forgotten or removed even if she wanted. And she didn't. It may not have been the most ideal of existences but she had some lovely memories that were a part of that self and she wouldn't trade them for all the cool confidence in the world. Nope. Wouldn't happen.

   Molly wasn't sure how long she'd been standing there, lost in quiet introspection, clad in nothing but her faded silk dressing gown with her hair slowly drying into soft waves she usually blew out, but the soft ping of her phone startled her out of it. "What now?" She looks at the text on her phone.

_Not my favorite means of communication but I thought you would take a text better than a call this time so here it is. In the future expect to hear my voice. Wear the emerald green peasant dress, minimal jewelry if any at all and the strappy silver sandals. Keep your hair down with nothing but combs to keep it off your face and leave the waves, you will look quite fetching and not at all out of place for our dinner destination. Do not fear over the conversation, I am quite certain we will have more to talk about than my dear brother. And lastly, do try to breath Ms. Hooper. I am in no doubt that I will enjoy your company tonight and I will endeavor to ensure you enjoy mine as well. MH_

   "Oh dear god that's creepy as all hell!" Molly sunk to the floor of the closet in stunned surprise. She should have known, didn't he keep track of everyone? Hadn't she always been aware on some level that she'd been monitored for as long as she'd known Sherlock? But this was the first time he'd ever used such surveillance to give her advice and she couldn't deny she suddenly felt as if eyes were on her. Not a comfortable feeling. With shaky hands she texted back.

_Dear heavens Mycroft are you watching me? Like right now?! So not acceptable! Oh god I feel so embarrassed. Maybe tonight isn't a good idea. If I had thought you'd be like this... MH_

   Mycroft instantly realized his mistake and nearly cursed. He should have been aware that contacting her the way he had would not have had the desired effect of soothing Ms. Hooper, but rather quite the opposite. Of course he had unsettled the poor woman. No one appreciated having the knowledge they were being watched thrown in their face, hadn't Anthea told him so repeatedly. Perhaps there was still a way to fix his stunning faux pas. He quickly texted back, cursing his rustiness with the opposite sex.

_Ms. Hooper I must beg your forgiveness for overstepping myself. I assure you my dear I am not indeed watching you at this very moment. I have however as you must already know been observing you over the years of your acquaintance with my brother and have learned something of your personality and behavior. I believed you may be having some second thoughts and some anxiety about our date and merely wished to settle your nerves. It has been some time since I have attempted to have a personal relationship and I fear I am a bit out of my element in this regard. I have handled the situation rather poorly but would still like to be able to see you. I do hope you will change your mind and do not make me cancel our reservations. Sincerely apologetic MH_

   Mycroft waited for a reply for so long he was almost certain he'd ruined his chances with the lovely pathologist. He sighed heavily and was about to call the restaurant to cancel when his phone beeped.

_The emerald green dress huh? Alright, but could you try to...not that I want you to be less you but rather...less creepy you maybe. I don't know. See you soon. Suddenly wary MH_

   Mycroft sighed with relief, getting up from his desk to grab his coat and head for the door, his smile almost scaring his receptionist as he walks by. Beatrice he believed her name was, he'd have to check with Anthea, had been with him for several years and had never seen her employer in such a jovial mood. She had to bite back the urge to ask him if he'd felled a small country while on lunch. Instead she just watches him leave in stunned silence.

   Molly was a flurry of activity after her last text, pulling the dress from the hanger and tossing on her bed as she pulled on her undergarments. She slipped the dress on quickly and slid into the flats he had suggested before following the rest of his veiled commands, thinking about the man she was about to dine with. Perhaps she was crazy for still seeing him after the stunt he's pulled but he'd been quick to ask forgiveness and she could certainly understand having been out of the dating scene. She wasn't exactly a social butterfly at the best of times but after Jim well...yeah. And so she busies herself with making herself as presentable as she's able and when she hears a car pull up she walks outside to find a rather dashing looking Mycroft stepping out of a sleek, dark sedan. He pauses when he sees her. "I was right Ms. Hooper. Very fetching indeed." He gives her a small smile as he steps forward to escort her to the car. "Thank you Molly, for giving me a second chance." She looks up at him with those big doe eyes of hers and smiles softly. "How could I deny us both a second chance Mycroft?" With that she slips into the car and he slides in after her. "Shall we then?" And with that he raps smartly on the glass separating them from the driver and they're off.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: So obviously I own nothing Sherlock. I mean I bear no resemblance to Mark Gatiss or Steven Moffat (believe me I've double checked.)


End file.
